


Sleep... please...

by AsheTarasovich (natalieashe), Boffin1710



Series: The Bed - The Life and Loves [3]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Exhaustion, Gen, Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 13:46:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15797763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalieashe/pseuds/AsheTarasovich, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boffin1710/pseuds/Boffin1710
Summary: Q is desperate to experience his new bed





	Sleep... please...

It was another whole week before he could actually worship the plushness of his newly acquired bed for more than an hour at a time. The ratty dilapidated sofa in what had become his office in Churchill’s Tunnels had seen more quality time than his own bed. 

Not only had the world around him at MI6 turned to shite beginning with the incidents that lead to his appointment as Quartermaster, it seemed to be one continuous thing after another. Every time he thought he was on his way to the comfort of his own safe haven, something else would become a cock up and with a huge exhausted sigh he would trudge back into the fray. 

Fuck it all... this time he was going home. Pillows and duvet were calling to him. God he needed sleep. 

Standing by the side of the vast expanse of crisp fresh cotton sheets Q stripped off his clothes leaving them where they fell. Too tired to walk to the laundry hamper. Too tired even to eat before crashing. He’d worry about both clothing and food once the dullness of absolute exhaustion had been appeased.

The sheets were cool against his skin and Q wriggled around until he was in the centre. A skinny starfish of a man spread out, yet still not able to reach the edges of the mattress with his gangly limbs. A whole other country - his own island - just for sleeping.

Q flopped onto his stomach and buried his nose in the gap between the mounds of pillows, inhaling deeply and moving around slightly seeking a new cool inch of sheet as each one warmed by his weary body. It smelled of fabric conditioner and still, faintly, of the plastic it had been wrapped in. 

This bed... all his!

A loud meow and the commotion of scrabbling announced the arrival of a tiny furry bedmate. Amelie stalked around his head, scaling the pillows and snuffling at his hair before curling up contentedly in the curve of his neck and shoulder.

Q smiled drowsily. This must be that elusive feeling of home.


End file.
